A Funeral For Molly Weasley
by TheNextFolchart
Summary: To be perfectly honest she had no idea what "death" was. "It's like falling asleep," her mummy had said when she'd asked. "Forever." / How Molly Weasley's family copes. Complete. [Word Count: 3,818]
1. A Funeral For Molly Weasley

**A Funeral for Molly Weasley**

* * *

_Sad, Molly. You're supposed to be sad._

But she couldn't be, no matter how hard she tried, because to be perfectly honest she had no idea what "death" was.

"It's like falling asleep," her mummy had said when she'd asked. "Forever."

(But that didn't sound all that bad, not to Molly, not to the girl who had bright yellow dreams about sunshine when she went to bed.)

"I wanna do death," she'd said. "I wanna be just like Grandmum."

"You're named after Grandmum, sweetheart. You're already just like her."

Molly shook her three-year-old head. "I wanna do death."

Her mummy had started to cry then, and Molly knew she had said the wrong thing.

* * *

"Mummy?" Molly whispered at the funeral. "Why is Daddy crying?"

"He's sad," her mummy whispered. "Grandmum was his mummy."

_Sad, Molly. Daddy's sad. Why aren't you sad?_

"And now she's sleeping forever?"

"Yes, love."

Molly sighed. "I hope she's having good dreams."

Her mummy kissed her forehead. "I'll bet she's dreaming of you," she said.

"That would be happy," she said, and then she clenched his jaw.

_This isn't _happy_, Molly. This is_ sad_._

(Outside, the sunshine was bright and yellow, like a dream.)

* * *

_[O.W.L. Challenge: Troll - Next-Gen; Yellow]_

_[Fiddler on the Roof Character Challenge: __Grandma Tzeitel - w__rite about a deceased family member; write about a namesake]_

_[Monthly Drabble-A-Thon: Molly Weasley, II]_


	2. A Drink for Molly's Children

**A Drink For Molly's Children**

* * *

"To Mum," Ron said glumly, raising his goblet in a toast to Heaven before draining the firewhiskey inside. "May you rest in peace."

"Unlikely," Charlie said. "Fred's up there waiting for her, and he's had years to plan all kinds of jokes - "

Ginny let out a hoarse laugh. "Wouldn't want to be Mum."

"I only hope I go before Georgie," Bill said, leaning against the counter. "Merlin knows I can't handle two of them waiting to ambush me at the same time."

George grinned. "Ah, we wouldn't prank you, Bill." He winked. "It's _Percy _we'd ambush."

Percy mouth twitched, and then he put his face in his arms and sobbed.

* * *

_[O.W.L. Challenge: Dreadful - goblet]_

_[Monthly Drabble-A-Thon: Next-Gen]_

_[Fiddler on the Roof Character Challenge: Yente - write about Molly Weasley]_


	3. A Child for Molly's Daughter-In-Law

**A Child for Molly's Daughter-In-Law**

* * *

For the first time since Molly had fallen ill, Hermione found herself with absolutely nothing to do.

There were no relatives to contact, no St. Mungo's appointments to rush to, no funeral arrangements to be made. All she had was a book and a one-year-old daughter asleep in a lopsided crib that Ron had tried to build without magic before giving up and letting her charm it all to stick together. Hermione watched her baby's chest rise and fall, rise and fall, and every heartbeat she had was a reminder that Molly Weasley was no longer breathing.

In some ways it was a relief.

She could never say that to Ron, of course. She could never say it to anyone. She could barely admit it to herself. But it was _nice _to know that her mother-in-law would never again nag at her. Because Molly Weasley may have meant well, but the woman played favorites like a champion, and Hermione knew she was not the favorite child-in-law.

(She wasn't the least favorite either - that honor belonged to Fleur - but Hermione had a feeling she was in the bottom three.)

The baby in the crib began to stir, and Hermione leaned over to stroke her hair - it was coming in brown, not red, and that was another relief. "Shh, Rosie," she whispered. "It's okay. It's all fine."

But Rosie crunched up her little face and began to cry, so Hermione pulled her out of the crib and rocked her gently. "Did you have a nightmare?" she whispered to the tiny little thing in her arms. "It's over now. Everything's okay." She forced herself to smile. "Everything's finally going to be fine."

And the biggest relief - and the saddest truth - of all was that, for the first time since Molly Weasley had fallen ill, Hermione believed it herself.

* * *

_[Female Character Challenge: The Wife of Bath - write about Hermione]_

_[O.W.L. Challenge: Poor - 2 stories about relief (1/2)]_


	4. A Drug for Molly's Daughter

**A Drug for Molly's Daughter**

* * *

The only way Ginny could function after her mother died was with the amortentia.

All it took was a spoonful a day - sometimes even less - and she was smiling and glowing and laughing again. It was her own secret antidepressant. As long as she had the love potion in her system, her heart was too busy leaping with infatuation to be bothered by grief.

(It bubbled up once in awhile in her dreams, but it was nothing an extra drop of amortentia couldn't fix.)

Because she had loved a boy called Tom Riddle once, and he'd left a hole in her heart that she couldn't fill - not with Quidditch, not with magic, not with ink or blood or kisses or the word "love." And then Fred had left a second hole right next to Tom's, and Mum had left a third one between the two, and she wanted to heal _so badly, _but every heartbeat ripped the holes open a little wider, and the best she could do was numb it all away with false love and futile hope.

"How do you do it, Gin?" Ron had asked one day when he came around after work. "How are you _smiling_?"

She shrugged. "Mum's in a better place," was all she would say. "And life has to go on for the rest of us."

(Except it didn't, not for her, not as long as she stayed a scared little girl trapped in a woman's body, not as long as her heart stayed mangled.)

"Honestly, though, Ginny, you haven't even grieved. It's like you're glad she's gone. It's like you didn't even love her."

Ginny laughed. "I love her plenty," she said, and one hand reached into her apron pocket to wrap around her tiny bottle. "Too much, probably."

And maybe she only imagined the suspicion in her brother's eyes, but relief flooded her veins when he left, and she leaned against the counter and began to drink her amortentia straight from the bottle.

* * *

_[Monthly Drabble-A-Thon: Amortentia]_

_[Female Character Challenge: __Georgina Kirrin - write about Ginny Weasley.__]_

_[O.W.L. Challenge: Poor - 2 stories about relief (2/2)]_

_[30 Harry Potter Prompts: Love Potion]_

___[Wizard Family Portrait: Ginny Weasley]_


	5. A Memory for Molly's Husband

**A Memory for Molly's Husband**

* * *

When he couldn't sleep, Arthur wandered through Diagon Alley.

(He hadn't been home since the funeral, and he wasn't so sure he was ever going back.)

He liked to peek into the darkened windows of each shop and reminisce about his family, back when his children were children and things weren't quite so bleak. Late at night it was quite easy to fool himself into thinking maybe it could all be that way again someday.

Because yes, Bill had his own family now, and yes, Charlie lived on the other side of the country, and yes Percy was busy with work and yes George was barely able to keep himself together and yes Fred was dead, dead, not coming back, not ever, not _ever, _and yes Ron was a bloody _father _and yes Ginny was married and _yes, his wife was gone_, but this late at night, something about the darkness made him feel less alone.

He caught his reflection in the shiny black glass of Ollivander's floor-to-ceiling window, and his heart panged, because for _justasecond _he saw eleven-year-old Bill standing beside him. "Billy?" he whispered, but of course there was no one there, and his eldest son hadn't been called Billy in years. Arthur pushed his hand through his hair and kept walking. He didn't glance back over his shoulder. Ollivander's wasn't Ollivander's anymore: it was a hollow room filled up with memories he only half-remembered at all.

The next shop he passed was Quality Quidditch Supplies, where he'd bought Charlie's first broom - brand-new, because how could any father say no eyes that sparkled like that? - and if he cocked his head just right he could hear the twins racing up and down the aisles, pointing out which broomsticks _they _were going to ride someday, which professional teams _they _were going to play for, how many fans _they _were going to have - and then the _crash _of the glass breaking because one twin had shoved the other into a display case of Bludgers, and then everyone was screaming and ducking as the balls whizzed overhead, and _Merlin, _he could remember it clear as day for half a second, and then it was gone and he was alone on the street again, staring at a shop with a "Come Back Later" sign on the door.

(He didn't realize he was crying until one of his tears hit the ground.)

Around the corner, and there was Flourish and Blotts - that was where Molly had gone into labor with Ginny while they shopped for Bill's first-year textbooks - and Gringotts - where a four-year-old Ron had thrown up all over a goblin after the long cart ride to the Weasley vault - and Madam Malkin's - where a six-year-old Percy had cried because he'd accidentally stuck himself with a pin - and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes - where the twins had somehow turned from boys into men - and _why was it all over?_

"Molly?" Arthur called as loudly as he dared - as if she were lost, as if they'd been separated in a crowd, as if she could possibly answer him.

His voice echoed softly through the empty cobble-stone streets.

* * *

_[O.W.L. Challenge: Acceptable - alone]_

_[Collect A Collection Competition: Arthur (Weasleys); Location Prompt: Diagon Alley]_

_[Monthly Drabble-A-Thon: Gringotts]_

___[Wizard Family Portrait: Arthur Weasley]_


	6. A Crush for Molly's Granddaughter

**A Crush for Molly's Granddaughter**

* * *

When Bill was in a good mood, he brought his family out to Hogsmeade.

They hadn't been in ages, not since his mother had fallen ill, but two weeks after the funeral his wife marched into the kitchen and announced that if Bill didn't stop moping around she was going to beat him with a broom.

"Moping around?" Bill repeated. His eldest daughter froze, her spoonful of cereal halfway between the bowl and her mouth. "My _mother _just died, Fleur."

"And now she is at peace!" Fleur snapped. "You theenk she would want her son to be lying around zee 'ouse all day? No. She would want you to make zee best of your life, Bill! Because life goes away."

Bill slammed his fist down hard. Victoire slowly returned the spoon to the bowl and ducked under the table.

"I can't believe you're saying these things," Bill said. "I know you didn't like her, but - "

"Didn't like her? Zee woman didn't like _me_."

" - you have no right to be so _happy _over her _death_."

"I'm not happy!" Fleur moved around behind him and began to massage his shoulders. Victoire peeked out from under the table. "She died too young. It is not fair. But can't you see that she died a long time ago? Can't you see she had not been zee same since Fred?"

Bill closed his eyes.

"She is in a happier place." Fleur patted his shoulders briskly. "And now we are going to a happier place. Hogsmeade. Come on, Victoire, go find Dominique and Louis."

Their daughter skirted out from beneath the table and ran to find her siblings. Bill sighed and leaned his head back so his wife could kiss his lips. "Hogsmeade," he groaned. "We don't have the money for Hogsmeade."

"Family time doesn't cost money," she said. "Get your boots."

* * *

Victoire Weasley sat in the booth at the Three Broomsticks and blew bubbles in her milk. In her lap was a giant bag from Honeyduke's, filled to the brim with sweets. "Is that chocolate?" a tiny voice asked from her side, and Victoire looked up to see her friend Teddy.

"Teddy! What are you doing here?" she asked, and a grin was already spreading over her face. She couldn't help smiling when Teddy was around.

"Early birthday celebration, I suppose. I'm going to be nine in a week." Teddy drew himself up proudly. "Grandmum sent me in here to find a seat while she gets me a secret birthday present."

"I'm seven already," Victoire said, but it wasn't quite as impressive as nine.

"Ah, I'm still older," Teddy said with a grin. "Always will be. Why're you here?"

"Mum thinks Dad's moping around, and Hogsmeade always cheers him up." She shifted the Honeyduke's bag and offered Teddy a seat. He slid into the booth next to her.

"I meant why are you here alone?" He helped himself to a piece of chocolate from her bag of sweets.

"Oh. Dad took Dominique and Louis down to Hogwarts, to play with the Giant Squid. And Mum just went next door to buy some more tea. Our house is out of tea. Don't eat all my chocolate!"

Teddy grinned. "But I love chocolate," he said, dropping two more pieces into his pocket for later.

Victoire tried to scowl, but she _couldn't_, not with him around, never with him around.

"You're funny when you try to stay angry with me," Teddy said.

"What do you mean?" She reached into the bag and stowed several chocolates in her pockets, just in case he decided to eat _all _of the ones in the bag.

"You make a face. You scrunch up your eyebrows and narrow your eyes, but you're still smiling. It's adorable." He grinned again.

She swatted him on the arm. "You make a face, too, you know," she said.

"I do? What's it look like?"

_Like a cheeky grin that makes me a little dizzy, actually. _"Like - like this." She tried to imitate his smirk. He doubled over laughing.

"Yeah? You look like _this_." He arranged his mouth in a pout and squinted his eyes shut. She collapsed against the table in a fit of giggles, knocking over her cup and spilling her milk all over the two of them and her bag of Honeyduke's.

"Oh, look what you did!" Teddy said, gasping for breath.

"I'm sorry, Teddy," she said. "You'll dry, don't worry."

"Not _me_!" He pointed at the soggy bag of sweets. "The _chocolate!_"

"Oh. Oh, no!" She was giggling again. "Better eat it all right now, Teddy, before it goes soggy."

"Too late," he said, false misery in his voice. "The milk has already chased the sweetness right out of it." He gave a huge sigh. "What a waste."

"Oh, what will I do without all that sweetness?" Victoire cried dramatically, putting a hand to her forehead.

"You have plenty of sweetness in you already," Teddy said, and then he blushed _deep _red - because it was under his breath, she knew he hadn't meant to say it out loud, knew she wasn't meant to hear it, but she_ did _hear it.

"You have plenty of sweetness in you, too, Teddy," she said, all trace of her giggles gone, and she reached into her pocket and handed him one of her chocolates.

* * *

_[Monthly Drabble-A-Thon: Teddy Lupin]_

_[Fiddler on the Roof Character Challenge: __Mordcha - write about the Three Broomsticks__]_

_[O.W.L. Challenge: Exceeds Expectations - write about your OTP in Hogsmeade.]_

_[Het-Pairings Boot Camp: wet]_


	7. A Birthday Party for Molly's Family

**A Birthday Party for Molly's Family**

* * *

They still celebrated her birthday every year.

They all gathered at the Burrow and made toasts and cut cake and gave speeches, and the little ones ran around the lawn or flew on broomsticks in the backyard while the older ones swapped stories and shared butterbeers.

"Do you remember the time Ginny snuck out into the broom shed after midnight?" George said one year, lounging in a pink plastic lawn chair Mr. Weasley had fished out of the garage.

"Yes!" Ginny was nestled on the porch swing next to Harry. "I was - what, six? Seven?"

"Must've been seven, because I was eight," Ron said.

"And you fell off," George continues, a grin spreading across his face. "You broke your ankle. And you - "

"And I didn't cry," Ginny said triumphantly. "I put the broom away and went back upstairs, and then in the morning I acted like Bill pushed me down the stairs."

Bill swore. "I _do _remember that. Mum took my bedroom door off its hinges for a _year_."

"Oh, hush," Ginny said. "You were at Hogwarts for most of it anyway."

A four-year-old barefoot Roxanne Weasley ran up to the adults, panting. "Have you seen Uncle Charlie?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

"No, where's he run off to?" George asked, leaning forward to tousle his daughter's hair.

"He's hiding from us!" She stomped her foot. "We just wanted to play with him. He's the worst uncle I have."

"Hey, now!" Charlie's red head popped up from behind the table holding the butterbeer. "The worst uncle you have? What about Uncle Percy?"

Roxanne's face broke into a grin. "Found you," she said, and then she launched herself at him and took hold of his leg. "Hugo! Lily! I have him!" she shrieked, and two more children came running at the porch.

"Hugo," Hermione scolded when her son leaped onto Charlie's back. "Stop that right now!"

"Get him, Roxie!" George called, and Harry laughed and egged on his own daughter.

"You gits," Charlie said, but he was grinning. "Hey. Hey! Roxanne! Hugo! Did you two know that Uncle Harry is hiding some of Grandmum's birthday cake in his pockets?"

"Cake?" Roxanne let go of Charlie and fixed her eyes on Harry. "You have birthday cake in your pockets?"

Harry shook his head. "It's a trick," he said, but all three children were already running at him. "It's a - _oomph!_"

Ginny scooted out of the way just in time for the three children to attack Harry (and the porch swing).

* * *

On the other side of the lawn, Dominique was lying flat on her back and letting her Auntie Angelina weave daisies into her hair. "I love Uncle Charlie," she said, closing her eyes against the bright sunshine.

"Mmm." Auntie Angelina inspected a daisy carefully before adding it to the plait in her niece's hair. "He's quite charming."

"Why doesn't he have a wife, then?"

"Some people are too busy for wives."

Dominique propped herself up on her elbows. "Why?"

Angelina twirled a lock of Dominique's hair around her finger. "Their careers, I imagine. Uncle Charlie does a very dangerous job, working with those dragons. If he had a wife, she'd always be worried about him. Lie still, Dominique, I have to add a few more daisies."

Dominique resumed her position on the ground. "Uncle Charlie used to play Quidditch, didn't he?"

"Yes." Angelina patted a strand of hair into place. "He was the best Quidditch player at Hogwarts. Besides me, of course," she added with a smirk.

"You were a Quidditch player, too?"

"Yes. So was Uncle George. And Uncle Harry. And Aunt Ginny. And Uncle Ron, too. All done, Nicki."

Dominique sat up and touched her hair gently. "I don't ever want to play Quidditch."

"Oh, no?" Angelina glanced over her shoulder to check on the adults by the porch. Harry was juggling three kids, Bill was doubled over laughing, and her husband was getting ready to throw a handful of cake at the back of Ron's head. "Why not?"

"Because I want to stay girly." She pointed at the daisies in her hair. "Girls don't do sports. They don't do anything that makes them sweaty."

(The cake missed Ron and hit Percy, and Angelina had to fight to keep from laughing.)

"And they don't get messy, either," Dominique finished primly.

Angelina looked down at her niece with an odd smile on her face. "Trust me, Dominique. You can be girly and still get messy."

She looked skeptical. "Really?"

"Really. And do you want to know a secret?"

Dominique leaned in and nodded.

"Being messy is a lot more fun."

* * *

"As great as this party is," James whispered to Fred, "I know a way to make it a whole lot more interesting."

The boys were in the kitchen, where the enormous birthday cake was sitting on the counter. A tiny slice was missing from the top tier - Uncle George had cut a piece to throw at Uncle Ron outside - but that didn't matter, James was interested in the center of the cake.

"Hand me a spoon, Fred," he said, glancing out the window. Nobody appeared to have noticed that the two of them had slipped away from the throng of cousins, but someone could walk in at any second. It'd be alright if it was Uncle George or Uncle Charlie, but if Aunt Hermione - or, Merlin forbid, Uncle Percy - showed up, they'd be in miles of trouble.

"A small spoon, or a big spoon?" Fred asked, holding up two different sizes.

"The big one." James took the proper utensil and clambered up onto a stool. "Go keep watch," he said, and Fred took his position by the window.

As carefully as he could, James began to dig into the cake. It was light and spongey, and it came away easily; in no time he'd reached the platter at the bottom. "Fred?"

"Yeah?"

"Anyone coming?"

"No, the coast is clear."

"Okay. Do you have the firecrackers?"

"Right here." Fred patted his pocket.

"Bring them to me."

Fred did. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

"Trust me. Teddy charmed them himself." James lowered the firecrackers carefully into the hole. "They won't go off until they hear the words - well, you know which words." He carefully smoothed the icing over the top to cover the hole, and then hopped down from his stool.

* * *

Molly Weasley was watching the whole thing from Heaven.

She always watched her birthdays. She loved the spectacle, loved the way her family did whatever it took to reunite for just one day, and _especially _loved that she wasn't really getting any older. She loved the old memories they talked about and the new memories they created. She loved seeing her grandchildren grow up, one year at a time, on the hill where she raised her own family.

It always brought a tear to her eye when Arthur came outside with the cake.

"Ready to sing happy birthday?" he called, lowering the cake carefully onto the table they'd dragged outdoors.

The Weasleys - but they weren't Weasleys, they were Potters and Grangers and Delacours and Johnsons and Lupins and hers, all hers, she was _so proud to be able to call them hers _- gathered around the cake. The adults hoisted some of the younger ones onto their shoulders.

"Ready?" Arthur said, lifting his wand like a conductor's baton. "One, two, three!"

"_Happy birthday to you_," the Weasleys chorused. From the corner of her weepy eyes, Molly caught James nudging Fred.

"_Happy birthday to you!_" James mimed ducking for cover, and Fred nodded, and Molly wondered what on Earth those two boys were planning. (And she smiled in spite of herself, because it had been a long time since she'd been able to wonder something like that.)

_"__Happy birthday dear Grandmum - "_

BOOM.

The cake exploded all over everyone. James and Fred, who had tucked themselves into tiny balls, escaped the blast, but everyone else was decked head to toe in frosting.

It was silent for three seconds before Percy, of all people, burst into laughter.

And then everyone was smiling again, and Roxanne was leading an army of cousins to play in the cake wreckage, and little Dominique was yelling about how much fun it was to be messy, and the adults were clinking their glasses and toasting to the birthday girl, and Molly was laughing and crying at the same time because she loved them all so damn much.

"What a prank," Fred said from her side. "Wish I'd been there to orchestrate that. It was flawless. The boy lives up to his namesake."

Molly pulled him into a hug.

* * *

_[Collect A Collection Competition: George (Weasleys); Word Prompt: Party]_

_[Fiddler on the Roof Character Challenge: Rabbi - write about a revered figure in one's community]_

_[30 Harry Potter Prompts: Butterbeer]_

_[O.W.L. Challenge: Outstanding - Celebration; Next-Gen]_

_[Disney Character Competition: Mrs. Potts - write about Molly Weasley Sr. Prompt: life]_

_[Wizard Family Portrait: Molly Weasley]_


End file.
